


Never Let Them See

by Destiny_Smasher



Category: Wilde - Fandom, Zootopia (2016)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2016-05-23
Packaged: 2018-06-10 04:55:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6940732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Destiny_Smasher/pseuds/Destiny_Smasher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What was she doing? Was this all a good idea? Was this a mistake? Everything could fall apart at the drop of a hat. One wrong thing. That was all it could take. She could lose her reputation, lose her job, lose her best friend...It had happened before.</p>
<p>But then again: it had happened before.</p>
<p>And the world hadn't ended, had it?</p>
<p>Judy liked trying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Let Them See

_\--_

 

- _Thump thump thump thump thump thump-_

 

Nervous ticks were especially frustrating when one was self-aware of them. Thanks to Nick's incessant teasing, Judy had become _incredibly_ self-aware of said habits. In this case, her foot pivoting up and down like a jackhammer when she was deep in thought. Especially in _nervous_ deep thought. So. _Now,_ whenever Judy caught herself doing it? She was hyper-self-aware of it.

 

That didn't mean she could just switch it off, though.

 

- _Thump thump thump thump thump thump-_

 

“Little anxious, there, Cottontail?”  
  
- _Thump thump thum-_  
Her foot calmed itself, but her thighs were rigid, her shoulders tense. __  
  
“Anxious?” she balked squeamishly. “Wh-? _No._ No, just, uh, just a little...impatient. I am _pre_ -tty hungry. So…-” She rubbed her paw against her stomach briskly with a self-convincing nod.

 

At this, Nick’s expression didn’t change a beat. His droopy eyelids and relaxed smirk just pierced right through Judy’s veil.

 

“You and me both,” he said simply.

 

“Long day,” Judy huffed with a steady nod, drumming her fingers against the edge of the table.

 

“Yup,” Nick agreed.

 

Nick was slouched back in his chair, one arm dangling over the post. He was wearing an extremely light pink dress shirt – wrinkles were rather apparent. Like he’d _tried_ ironing it, but didn’t really know how to do it right. His usual tie was around his neck, though Judy had gotten around to teaching him how to _actually_ tie it, so it was a snug fit for once. Very handsome. Fox looked good in a tie. Judy could tell he’d even taken some time to try brushing his fur out a bit. It was especially noticeable on his arms that evening. The particular lighting of the restaurant gave the fox’s red coat a particularly attractive vibe, and Judy had already caught herself staring once – OK, _maybe_ twice -- at the way the dim gold lighting of the overhead lamps would reflect off his squeaky clean red fur, like a field of grass blades made of sunset.

 

Yikes. Benjamin was right – Judy really _did_ need to get out more, huh? Like, socially.

 

Like... _this_ kind of socially. Clawhauser had really hit the nail on the head, it seemed.

 

Judy had gone straight home from work that day to make sure everything was on point. She made due, though she didn't have much of a wardrobe despite her time in Zootopia. Not much of a need, not to mention barely any room to store it. The lease on her cramped apartment had ended months ago, but...she just hadn't found it responsible or necessary to find any place bigger. She was barely home, for starters. She was a simple Rabbit with simple needs. Growing up with two hundred siblings had conditioned an efficiency for small living spaces. And besides, she'd even gotten used to chatting with the loud neighbors one room over. Gosh, _they'd_ been the ones to give her a last minute pep talk on her way out the door that evening.

 

And here she was. All...'gussied up,' as her Pop would say. Well. _Sort of_ 'gussied up.' She was in a summer dress patterned with flower petals, cool colors. They complimented her eyes, according Ben. A simple gold chain necklace passed down from her mother – family heirlooms were all the more precious when your immediate nuclear family was as large as the Hopps' was. She’d even added some clip-on earrings at the tips of her ears shaped like tulips -- the re-balance on her ears took some getting used to. But, come on, it wasn’t like she was _dressed up_ dressed up. This wasn't, you know, _fancy._ Cripes, they were at the Lumber Yard, not the Ratatouille. Golly, no. Not fancy at _all._

 

Strictly casual.

Strictly easy.

 

Strictly…awkward.

 

Nick scratched his slender chin as he gazed across the crowded restaurant, seemingly content with some silence between them. Judy, meanwhile, kept her eyes on _his_ eyes, and how they were shifting oh-so-calmly about. Was anyone looking at them? Was anyone staring? Didn’t seem like it. But if they were, Nick didn't seem to care. Maybe that was a good thing. Besides, this was _Zootopia,_ right? It wasn’t like it was some uncommon thing to see a bunny and a fox breaking bread together. Alone. Drinking wine. Right? It was encouraged, this kind of thing. Especially after all of that nonsense with the Nighthowlers and Bellwether, and-... _Yeesh._ That was months in the past. Going on a year now? With all of that stuff behind everyone, there'd been a swell of conscientiousness about open-minded attitudes and equality. A lot of regulations changing in the city, a lot of meetings and discourse and protests, and…well, progress. Slow but notable progress. It was a pretty neat thought to realize that in a way, it had all started with a Bunny and a Fox.

 

And right then, right there, in that crowded restaurant, Judy and Nick were taking the next logical step. And that was... _kinda_ sorta horrifying, wasn't it? It would be easier to just not even bother. Not even risk it.

 

Well...But Judy liked trying, actually.

 

Nick's stake-out of the place finally rescinded and he settled back on Judy's face.

 

They blinked awkwardly a couple times. Judy smiled a little. Nick looked away.  
  
“Sure seems to be taking them a while, huh?” Judy small-talked. She drummed her fingertips against the stem of her wine glass. She'd had a couple small sips but was trying to keep a clear head until things, you know, wound down a bit.

 

“Yep,” Nick agreed simply, nodding with an aire of contemplation as he gulped the last of his first glass down. And then his gaze met hers again, and there was an uncomfortably long few seconds of wide eyes locked, no blinking. Judy's nose twitched. Nick smiled a little. Judy looked away.  
  
Judy could feel her heart pounding a bit. Her ears were straight and tall, flicking slightly at any errant sounds – of which there were many in the sort of place they were eating out. Judy's paws kept fidgeting about, fussing with her silverware, tightening the napkin cloth around her neck, _un_ fussing her silverware...  
  
“Well.” Nick shifted in his chair, adjusting his tie a bit. “Black Bears aren't exactly known for their punctuality...”

 

A small sigh slipped out of Judy's narrowed nostrils. It was a process, but eventually she'd get him to stop making remarks like that. Everything was a process. Always a process...

 

Judy crossed her arms around her waist to stop her hands from fidgeting, and she planted one foot over the other to prevent her anxious – er, _impatient –_ thumping. But the pressure in her Bunny brain wouldn't dissipate.  
  


“ _Hohhhh,_ gosh, I'm sorry,” Judy drizzled out, sliding a paw up and over her face with some regret. Her hands flicked around as she spoke. “I-I just thought this place....you know, it looked _casual,_ but...but not dumpy, right? It’s not dumpy, is it? No. No, it’s _totally_ not. But it…it’s not _too_ fancy, you know? But, um, but _this_ – this is a bit of a disaster, huh? Isn't it? Unmitigated. Whole nine yards. If I'd known...-”

 

In her fretful meandering, Judy came to realize that Nick was just cutting through her worry with that smooth smirk of his...and she slowed herself to a stop, caught in a proverbial net by his face, by his eyes, by his collected if amused demeanor. And she became self-conscious again.

 

Puffing out a sigh, Judy planted her elbows on the table, folded her paws over each other, and set her chin to rest on her wrists. Staring sheepishly at her empty plate, she dropped a single, nervous laugh in spite of herself.

 

“What was it you said?” Nick rhetorically reminded. “Not 'anxious', just...-?”  
“Impatient. Hungry.” Judy blurted the words out knowingly, with a self-aware flicker in her eyes.  
“Yuhhhh- _huh_.” Nick didn't nod, maintaining his narrow-eyed gaze.  
“OK, OK,” Judy jerked up her shoulders. “I'm _maybe_ possibly a _teensy_ bit anxious.”

 

Nick's glance cut away and he nodded knowingly, with that smug little smirk of his.

 

“It's all right, you know,” Nick assured nonchalantly.

 

Judy gave pause at this, considering what he’d meant.

 

“ _Augh,”_ she shrugged squeamishly. “Thanks, but it's just-...This was _my_ idea, and I'm just making it _all_ awkward... _Hoo_. Sorry.”

 

“Know what helps with that, Carrots?” Nick posed, pouring himself a second glass of white wine. He scooped up his drink by the bowl with all fingers and lightly rattled his claws against the glass, raising his brows Judy's way.

  
Judy's ears tingled up and down. She rubbed her paws against her knees in a quick, nervous motion, staring at her nearly full glass of white wine.

 

“Oh. Hesitation, I see,” Nick teased in slow syllables. “Outside of your forte. Is that it?” He grabbed their table's wine bottle and poured himself a second glass. “Here. Let me show you. Free lesson, on the house.” As he topped off his drink, their eyes met. He was grinning with that trademark taunting tone, and Judy wrinkled her nose playfully at this, smiling a goofy smile back. Nick added quietly, jokingly, “The _wine's_ not on the house, though. _Oh,_ no. You are splitting this bill with me, Hopps. No pretenses.”

 

“No pretenses,” Judy agreed, letting herself smirk a little.

 

“Now, y'see, the glass, here? You scoop it up. In your paw. Like so.”

“Like…-?”

“Yup. Yup, there ya go. You take a sip. Like so.”

They both took theatrically dainty slurps.  
“Like so?” Judy played along.  
“Like _so_. _There_ ya go, Rabbit, you’ve got it. That simple.”  
“It’s a good thing I have such a _cultured_ creature here to show me the ropes.”  
“Darned right, it is.”  
“What would I do without you, Fox? _Not_ have a good time. That's what.”  
  


Judy took a few consecutive sips, giggling inbetween. Nick just slowly shook his head.

 

“Next lesson,” Nick posed, lifting his index claw, “is going to be about _pacing_ yourself.”

 

“Mm-hm?” Judy hummed through another sip, finishing off her first glass. She burped quietly, into her paw, and puffed out a soft chuckle as she watched Nick fill her glass right back up.

 

As he poured, Nick teased, “Now, I know it's in your _nature_ to rush these things – you Bunnies live life in the fast lane and all – _but_...Trust me, it'll be better if you take it _back_ a notch.”

 

“That doesn't sound _fun_ ,” Judy playfully grunted, reaching out for her glass. Nick gently withdrew it just beyond her grasp.

 

“Oh, we're here to have _fun,_ now, are we?” he taunted. “News to _me_...”

 

Judy narrowed her eyes and wrinkled her nose with a wry smile, arm still extended toward her glass. Nick met her gaze, lifted his brows, and cautiously slid the wine glass toward her.

 

“I mean, we don't _need_ to have fun,” Judy coyly proposed, giving Nick a smug look and shrugging up one shoulder. “We could just...keep awkwardly _smiling_ a lot, if that's, you know, more your style.” She scratched her cheek a bit, her eyes wandering slyly. “More your _speed_.”

 

Rather than have a go at her drink, Judy let the glass rest within her paw. So much for keeping a clear head. She could already feel the first helping of wine hit her, and it seemed to be quite exactly what she'd needed to get past that hump of awkwardness. She tried to think of some witty follow up to ‘ _More your_ _ **speed.**_ _’_

 

“I mean,” Judy added toyingly, narrowing her eyelids at Nick for a change. “I wouldn't want to pull you into the _fast lane_ or anything...”

 

Nick couldn't seem to endure her sneaky look and rolled his head to the side a bit, nodding with a small smile.

 

“Glad you learned a lesson from ol' Flash,” Nick mused, scanning the restaurant some more. “Put an animal in the wrong lane and you've got trouble.”  
  
“You _would_ know about trouble,” said Judy slyly.

“I would,” conceded Nick with a casual sigh. “That's why you keep me around, Carrots.”  
“ _Is_ that why?” Judy mocked. “Yes. Yes, it is...”  
“ _Uh_ -kay. Haven’t we already…worn that one out by now?”  
  
Nick puffed a laugh through his narrow nose at Judy's reference to their long-running in-joke.  
What else could she do? She was trying to, you know, be all...' _flirty.'_  
  


Judy had passed her academy training top of her class, gotten to the bottom of a huge conspiracy, but...cheese-and-crackers. _This_ stuff? Way outside her skill set.

 

The two of them seemed to be avoiding further wine consumption, instead just kind of...taking 'sips' of each other's dumb smiles. All ways led to intoxication. And intoxication led to all ways of dwelling on things that were wanted but...unattainable. In the practical sense.

 

Judy considered herself rather a practical person, though. So this was... _whew._ Well, this was new. This was weird. Right? It was definitely weird.

 

In the quiet moments where their eyes seemed to be scouting each other's intentions, Judy desperately tried to think of something to say. Something funny. Something sly, something dumb. Anything.

 

But all she could think of was, like, _'That tie looks handsome on you. I like your shirt. Your cologne's a bit of a tacky smell but I appreciate the effort. You look good, Sir.'  
_

And, well, these didn't fit any of her parameters of...a good thing to say right then. They were just boring, typical, average things to say on a date. And this was already panning out to be a terribly 'average' date, and Judy was nervous enough about that. She just knew that if she said what came to mind, what she felt in the moment, it would only make things worse – as it often seemed to where Nick was involved.

 

“Uh...-” Nick seemed to be attempting to break the ice. “Nice dress, Cottontail. Didn't think you even owned any.”

Breaking the ice? More like...the way Mr. Big 'broke the ice.'

 

“Oh, uh, y-yea, heh.” Judy adjusted the straps a bit and nodded a little. “It's a real... _picnic_ sort of dress, actually, but...you know. It's, uh...the only one I _have..._ right now?” She added under her breath, “Only one that _fits_ anymore, anyway...” Yikes. Ugh. Dumb. Not even the kind of 'dumb' she'd wanted, either. Just the boring kind. She cleared her throat and further amended, “Thanks, though. Yea. Nothing fancy, just...casual. You know?” She forced a smile, squinting squeamishly. “And-and, _hey,_ you. Look at... _you._ With the... _tie._ And the shirt.” _Cheese-and-crackers._ Maybe there was something to be said for just...being content with 'average.'

 

Nick's eyelids remained at half-mast, but his brows raised and his slightly off smirk flourished into an amused smile.

 

“I _do_ happen to be wearing a shirt,” Nick facetiously agreed. _“And_ a tie. Clearly a special occasion. It would seem I've...evolved beyond my primitive, savage ways...”

 

“Oh.” That drumming heartbeat of Judy's had skipped a little. “Nick, I didn't...-”  
“It's called a _joke,_ SweetHeart.”

 

And there were stupid grins again.

 

But there was a pit in Judy's stomach. Not just the hunger – she'd been serious, she was running on empty – but an insidious little smidgen of guilt about the mistake she'd made which Nick had just quoted, from all those months ago. By now they certainly had their little in-jokes with each other, but...that particular one – about 'primitive, savage ways'? – it didn't settle well with Judy. Those were words that never should've been uttered in the first place. Words she couldn't take back.

 

Some light-hearted, light- _headed_ chuckling pulled Judy back out of this, and back into her situation, which suddenly entailed plates of food being set down on the table before her. Their waiter, a Black Bear cub – a high-schooler, from the look of it – was there and gone before Judy could so much as speak a word.

 

“Time flies when you're having fun,” Nick mused with a shrug, readying his silverware. He looked prepared to pounce upon his blueberry pancakes. _Pff._ Wine and pancakes...? This was the kind of animal Nick was, and Judy was fascinated.

 

“Oh, fun? Is _that_ what we were doing?” said Judy, keeping things smarmy. “I think our definitions of _'fun'_ might be different, Nick...”

 

Nick lifted one eyebrow her way as she bobbled her head a little, pleased with her insinuation – but more for the effort of it, rather than...actually believing her own words to be true. In truth, this – just this, just what they were even _casually_ and _awkwardly_ attempting – was more than enough excitement for one day.

 

But Judy was stubborn, and when she had it set in her mind that she wanted something, she went through with it. And what she wanted right then was to have the first _not_ awful date in her entire life. The past, the future, that wasn't important. She just...needed one evening to let herself believe that these kinds of things could... _happen_ to her. Even if they couldn't _really._

 

“Thought you were hungry,” Nick noted, carving up his pancakes. He licked a bit of saliva from his lips. With that...long, slender tongue he had. _Eesh._ Judy caught herself pondering and made herself look busy instead.

 

Judy tied her cloth napkin around her neck as she nodded, humming out a forced sound as she pushed herself to eat. She felt a bit dizzy, her stomach actually _hurt_ a little, and yet...she didn't have an appetite.

 

Judy stared at her salad in a trance for a few moments, absent-mindedly tossing it around with her fork. Lettuce, tomato, carrot, celery, olive, onion, breadcrumbs...everything all mixed together. In harmony. Add the wrong dressing, though – a thin layer of condiment, so easy to drizzle out – and the entire dish could be ruined. Sometimes it was best to just not bother adding any dressing at all if you weren't sure. Especially if you were the sort who'd get queasy too easily, or...-

 

“Cottontail,” Nick said, ripping Judy from her thoughts.

 

“Yea?”

 

Nick expression glazed over with concern, which didn't happen terribly often.

 

“Uh...-” He scratched at the base of his ear, nodding toward Judy's salad bowl. “They get your order wrong? I mean, I'd _assume_ a salad would be hard to screw up, but...-”

 

A soft chuckle involuntarily fell from Judy's nose.

 

“It's fine,” she wistfully assured. “Just...thinking.”

 

Judy shook her head, stabbed her fork through some vegetables, and nibbled away at them. Judy had expected Nick to make some retort that teased her about 'thinking,' but it didn't come. Instead, she and Nick kind of snuck around each other's gazes as they ate. Realizing how tense she still was, Judy steadied her hand enough to guzzle down some more wine. She kept her paw affixed to the glass, her eyes catching her own warped reflection in the clear curvature.

 

What was she _doing?_ Was this all a good idea? Was this a mistake? Everything could fall apart at the drop of a hat. One wrong thing. That was all it could take. She could lose her reputation, lose her job, lose her _best friend..._ It had happened before.

 

But then again: _it had happened before._

 

And the world hadn't ended, had it?

 

“Ground control to Major Hopps,” Nick grunted, holding up two fingers to his ear. “Hopps, what's it look like up there?”

 

“Simple,” Judy replied with some warmth, trying to let Nick's dorkiness pull her back in. “Things start to look pretty simple, once you pull out far enough.” Nodding to herself, Judy then cleared her throat and began to eat some more.

 

Nick took a sip of his drink and took a bite of his pancakes.

 

Then, after waiting a few seconds without elaboration, Nick said, “So, uh... _I_ brought in the space metaphor to, like...pick on you a bit. And then _you_ took it and went off...somewhere _else._ Deeper into space.”

 

Judy savored the intrigue on Nick's face as she nodded half-heartedly.

 

“I guess I did,” she conceded.

 

Another pause.

 

Nick requested, “You wanna...maybe take me along for the ride?”

 

And there they were again, trapped in a staring contest. Judy's stomach fluttered, her chest pounded, her fingers trembled a little. She couldn't resist, she had to tease him. There was this...this weird _thrill_ to it.

 

“I don't _know_ , Nick,” she sighed facetiously, rolling her eyes. “I'm not sure you can handle how deep the Rabbit Hole _goes_...” She did her best took all...coy and what-not, and just as she went to give him a sly wink, she...instead just sort of stuck her tongue out at him.

 

Nick went a little wide-eyed. Flustered, embarrassed even. Judy felt a rush swell in her chest at the sight. So the infallibly calm Nick Wilde _could_ indeed be riled.

 

Nick fidgeted with his shirt's collar, then recovered with, “Remember what I said about _pacing_ yourself with the wine?”

 

“ _Psh_ ,” Judy flapped up a dismissive wrist. “I'm not as drunk as you _think_ I am. I, uh-...I mean...I'm not as... _think_...as you _drunk_...-?”

 

“Nevermind,” Nick chuckled. “You, uh-...You take a few more swigs, Cottontail. You'll get there.”

 

“And how do I know you won't take advantage of my slowed reflexes?”

 

“Oh, _I_ do that every _day_.”

 

“Sly Fox.”

 

“Not as sly as _you,_ Bunny.”

 

“Learning from the best.”

 

“I'll drink to that.” Nick took up his glass, extending his arm across the table. Judy had to spring up a bit, feet on her chair, but she managed to _clink_ her wineglass against his. The sheer effort it had taken put the two of them into a cloud of snickers, and they gently settled back down to finish their meals.

 

So far, so good.

 

But for ten, fifteen minutes...nothing but small talk. Small talk that Judy had to carry a bit, seeing as Nick wasn't too keen on small talk. Judy desperately wished for Nick to steer the conversation in a more meaningful direction, because everything coming out of her mouth seemed pedestrian and boring and bleh. But she couldn't stop talking, either. Silence would lead to quiet stares, and dumb smiles, and she'd feel uncertain and queasy and awkward, and so she'd drink a bit more wine.

 

By the time Judy's meal was consumed, so was their bottle of wine.

 

Watching Nick finish his food, Judy let her head float, her face simmer with warmth, her stomach settle. All the while, she listened to Nick inbetween his bites as he talked a bit about his new apartment.

 

She tried to pay attention, but her mind kept going to other places. Uncouth places she wasn't used to to going to. It was weird. She wanted to blame it on the alcohol, but...-

 

“-and I guess if I ever get a new neighbor, I am _obligated_ by contractual agreement to produce a rubarb pie. Somehow. But, eh, it all worked out, so-...Uh...Still awake, Carrots?”

 

“Huh?” Judy struggled to push her eyelids open wide, to pull her eyeballs from Nick's paws, to tune those big ears of hers to what Nick was saying. “Sorry.”

 

“Didn't realize I could be so _boring_ ,” Nick noted with a casual shrug.

 

“What? _Nooo_ , no-no, I'm just...-” Judy rotated her hand around her face, then rubbed at her eyes. “ _Whew._ Haven't had wine in a while.”

 

“Hangin' steady, though?”

 

“Hangin' steady.”

 

“Steady enough for a light-weight, anyway.”

 

“ _Pffh._ Like you're one to talk.”

 

“Not without purpose.”

 

“Ya know, I haven't forgotten about that hangout the department had for Delgado's wedding.”  
  
“I have... _no_ idea what you mean, Carrots.”  
  
“You got... _pretty_ wild that night, Buster.”

 

“A little tipsy, maybe...”

 

“A _little?_ Video evidence disagrees.”

 

“Oho? _Evidence,_ huh?”

 

“Yep.”

 

“You?”

 

“Clawhauser.”

 

“That little...-”

 

“He posted it to social media the second he was done recording it.”

 

“Of _course_ he did.”

 

“Cameras don't lie, Nick.”

 

“Eh...Sometimes they do.”

 

“Well. Not Benny's.”

 

“Sounds like I'm gonna have to...pay that fuzzball a visit. Make a business arrangement.”

 

“ _Bribery_? Destroying evidence? And here I thought you were turning a new leaf, Fox.”

 

“Well, when you back a Fox into a corner...-” Nick trailed off, tilting his head in a slight, coy gesture as he delicately scooped up his drink.

 

Nick raised his glass across the table, and Judy once again had to balance herself upright on her oversized chair to toast him. Her left foot slipped slightly, and she spilled a bit of wine on her forearm in the recovery. She snickered a bit in spite of herself as she managed to clink her glass against his.

 

Sighing in humor, she sat back down and dried off her fur with her cloth napkin.

 

“Good thing it's white wine,” Nick teased dryly, remarking on how red probably would've left a bad stain.

 

“Good thing,” Judy agreed, slowly shaking her head with a smirk.

 

“That whole thing about pacing yourself?” Nick reminded.

 

“Yea, yea...”

 

Judy lamented a little at how her forearm was going to get all sticky from the fermented grape juice, but...screw it. Maybe if her seat was on the same side of the table as Nick's she wouldn't have to be spending half of this meal standing...

 

With that notion in her head, Judy hopped down from her oversized chair and began to tug it around the table.

 

“Uh...Carrots?”

 

“One sec.”

 

Judy's head was warm, her stomach uneasy. A little Bunny, dragging a big wooden seat around an even bigger table. She was probably the smallest Animal in the whole place. This was clearly a restaurant for larger mammals, but...here she was. Scooting her chair right next to a Fox. Was anyone giving her weird looks? She was too nervous to find out.

 

“Need help with that?” Nick asked, chin in his paw as he leaned over the edge of the table. Watching her wine-buzzed fumbling around was probably good entertainment for him. Nick could give Judy all of the sarcastically judgmental looks he wanted to, and she would be unfazed.

 

“I got it,” Judy confidently murmured back.

 

Having finally wrangled her chair next to his, she slowly climbed her way back up. Now that they were side by side, she could take a more relaxed position, her head barely poking up above the table. She exchanged bemused, sly little smiles with Nick. And then Nick nodded his head across the table.

 

Dangit. Her salad and wine were still over there.

 

“Were you done?” Nick jested, lazily carving a chunk of pancake with the side of his fork.

 

Judy craned her neck over at her food. She was still hungry.

 

“ _Ummm_...-?” she uttered uncertainly.

 

With a mouthful of pancake, Nick's eyelids flickered as he rolled his head a little, getting up from his chair. Chewing on his food, he rounded the table. His height – and arm length – were just so that he could retrieve Judy's meal and slide it back around to their end of the table.

 

“Such a gentleman,” Judy complimented with a facetious smile. She fluttered her eyelids at him facetiously and scrunched her nose. He gave her head a playful shove as he passed her by and reclaimed his own seat.

 

And so they resumed their eating, and before long, dinner was done.

 

“Dessert?” Judy wondered as soon as Nick was on his last bite.

 

Daintily dabbing his napkin along the wide perimeter of his lips, Nick shrugged an agreeable shrug with a half nod.

 

“I'm _really_ in the mood for chocolate,” Judy confessed absent-mindedly, her face tightening with focus at nothing in particular as the sweet taste of something thick and fudge-like tap-danced at the edge of her tongue.

 

Nick smoothly snagged the laminated dessert menu from the napkin holder before them and passed it to Judy, who took to it with the same solemnity and immediacy as a missing person's report.

 

“You've, uh-...You've got a little something...-” Nick dabbed his napkin on Judy's nose. “Nope, it's-... _Gah,_ missed a spot.” Judy's face wrinkled up as Nick began ruffling the cloth napkin against her entire face. A couple of seconds of this and she got the point, puffing out a soft chuckle as she shooed him away with the plastic-laced menu.

 

“I just can't take you _anywhere_ ,” Judy grumbled jokingly, resuming her intense dessert investigation.

 

“Nope,” Nick agreed, loosening his tie a little.

 

Judy resumed her dessert investigation. Nick made a couple of weird little gestures – like he was getting ready to burp, but nothing came out. Judy, meanwhile, burped a pathetic little squeak of a belch, then flashed Nick a dorky little smirk of pride.

 

As Judy made her decision, she noticed Nick slowly leaning himself over her shoulder. She pretended to not notice. She was curious as to where this would lead. Maybe to where part of her wanted it to?

 

Her tall ears could hear air passing across Nick's fur as he slightly repositioned himself. She could detect his muscles tightening, hear his breaths get shallow, and she could swear she could hear his heartbeat quicken a little – nervous, eh? Well, that was fine. She was, too. That was what the wine was there for, after all. The fur on the back of her ears tingled from his stiff, warm breathing. Her eyes were probably glazed over, pointed at a dessert menu, but her sight was fixated at the corners – at the bits of red leaning, hovering over her left.

 

All Judy could think of was how soft and warm that red was.

 

“Need some help making a decision?” Nick mumbled, bemused.

 

Judy's slitted nostrils widened in an instant, sucking in a sharp inhalation. Her eyelids flickered, her ears twitched, and she nodded uncertainly, offering Nick a shrug.

 

“Uh, _sure._ ” She nudged her arms to her left, handing the menu to Nick. He scooped it up with his left paw, his right still dangling over the corner of Judy's seat.

 

“They've got a great lineup, don't they?” Nick murmured in concession. “I know, it's hard to decide. But you had your sights set on chocolate, so...that narrows it down. Slightly.”

 

It was not hard to decide.

Judy had already known what she'd wanted within seconds of glancing at the menu.

But she'd stopped herself from saying it.

 

What if it wasn't what Nick wanted? Right? What if he wasn't hungry now? She didn't want to force dessert on him. What if she picked something that, like...made Foxes sick? Or something Nick didn't like? What if in staying for dessert she was keeping him away from...whatever he'd planned on doing afterward? What if in dragging her seat across the table, and sitting right beside him, she'd made him uncomfortable? Embarrassed? What if...-?

 

There were always so many reasons for Judy to not express what she truly wanted.

 

In her experience, this very act, this process, this deliberate decision to _not_ express what she wanted...

It was perhaps what made the difference between the animals of the present, and the ones of the distant past.

 

But instincts were still instincts.

Wants were still wants.

 

Judy slowly, cautiously placed her head against the side of Nick's chest. Her ears, now perched right against Nick's shirt, could _definitely_ hear that heartbeat getting a little erratic. Was it in a good way, or a bad way?

 

“Uh...Don't go falling asleep on me, Hopps,” Nick mumbled, laughing through his nose.

 

“Dark Chocolate Salted Caramel Pie,” Judy blurted out in a quiet sigh. A pause. “That's what I want.”

 

“That is...-”  
“Specific.”

“Salted?”  
“Mm.”  
“Never been a fan of _dark_ chocolate. Or _salt_ on my dessert.”  
“Me, neither,” Judy confessed. “I wanna give it a try. Something different.”

“Trying to get a recurring theme going here?”

“I guess I am,” Judy realized.

“Fair enough,” concluded Nick with a soft nod.

“Is that...-? Is that bad?” Judy critically questioned, eyes narrowing with self-doubt.  
“Nah,” Nick insisted, his nose wrinkling a bit.

 

Judy finally pried herself from what had been a very comfortable little spot against Nick's ribs. She looked him right in the eye. Her sight was a _little_ hazy from the wine, but that notion was just making her even more self-conscious.

 

“Because, I mean, if you're not up for it, we could just-”  
“It's fine, it's fine,” Nick hushed her, giving her shoulder a brisk pat as they separated.

 

Before such a little thing could make them feel awkward – or maybe, before Judy planting herself against Nick could make _him_ feel awkward – Nick flashed up his paw at their adolescent waiter, who was delivering drinks to a pair of Badgers.

 

The waiter seemed to stall for a moment when Nick flagged him down.

 

“Was everything...all right?” the waiter asked.

 

“Delish,” Nick erased any potential concerns. “My partner here would like to get some dessert. A, uh....Dark...Chocolate...-?”  
“Dark Chocolate Salted Caramel Pie, please.”

 

“Your, uh...-? Ah. Y-yea. One slice? Two?”

 

Nick gave Judy a questioning glance. She gave him a crooked, sly smirk back.

 

Nick flashed two claws up with a nod of solidarity.

 

“Coming...right up,” the waiter puffed out, hobbling off. The Bear cub looked out of his element. Like his old boar had set him up to this gig – the place seemed family owned, so that made sense.

 

“Salt on _dessert_ ,” Nick scoffed in a whisper, shaking his head slightly. “The things I put up with for you, Carrot-Cakes...”

 

“That goes both ways,” Judy coyly reminded, stretching her arms out to re-tighten Nick's loosened tie.

 

“Point taken,” Nick said with a smile, tilting his head up as he let her re-adjust his knot.

 

Judy took longer than such a task required. She realigned his shirt's collar, nimbly brushing the edges of her finger tips against the fur on Nick's neck as she made her adjustments.

 

“You _do_ realize I'm just going to loosen it back up again,” Nick pointed out coyly.

 

As she settled back into her seat, Judy slicked her ears back, letting them relax against the back of her head. She fussed with her clothing's straps a bit – which she tended to keep much tidier than Nick's tie – and took a deep breath.

 

“I do realize that,” Judy replied plainly, placing her head back against Nick's ribcage. “And _I'm_ still going to still say dumb things that offend you once in a while.” She nuzzled her cheek against his chest a bit, worrying, wondering if he was OK with that – she tried to make it seem more like she was figuring out a comfortable seating position. “So we can straighten each other out,” Judy concluded with some hope swelling in her chest.

 

With her ears calmed down, Judy appreciated Nick's scent for a bit – he was wearing some kind of cologne and was freshly showered, which had all been masking the actual _Nick_ smell, but now that she focused on it, it was undeniably still there.

 

Her imagination started wandering to some mystical life of impossibility where she could just sit like this with Nick, even more intimately, on a couch, in some dream world where she'd encourage him to act a little more professional, and where he'd encourage _her_ to take it easy more often.

 

Nick didn't seem to have much to say.

 

Judy wondered what sort of things he was imagining – if anything.

 

Nick responded, “Full of metaphors tonight, I see...”

 

“Mm,” Judy hummed thoughtfully. “I've got a lot on my mind. I guess it helps me sort things out.”

 

“So...” Nick frowned with faux contemplation. “What you're _saying_ is, my unkempt tie and untucked shirt morally offends you.”

 

“ _Pff._ Oh, yea. Yep. Dead to rights, Detective. Case solved.”

 

“You know, you _are_ Lieutenant now,” Nick joked. “You _could_ always order me to tuck my shirt in.”

 

“But then how would we pull off our Good Cop, Bad Cop routine?”

 

“Ah.” A slight nod from Nick. He snapped his fingers. “ _Again,_ good point, Hopps.”

 

“Seem to be full of 'em tonight.”

 

“You really are.” Nick added facetiously, flatly, “You've come so far. I'm so proud.”

 

Judy gently squeezed her paw against Nick's thigh with a soft chuckle. The two kind of broke their contact off as their slices of pie were delivered.

 

Their awkward, teenaged waiter seemed eager to give them their pies and be on his way. He seemed to even be avoiding eye contact. Maybe he was a shy cub, and all this hustle and bustle was too much for him? Judy couldn't help but feel a bit sorry for him. She was thankful her parents had let her do her own thing.

 

Judy savored the sweet and salty combo of her pie. Opposites went really well together when there was some purpose to it, right? Peanut butter and jelly, salt and caramel...black and white Zebra stripes.

 

Judy let herself admire the way Nick ate his pie. While Judy and Nick's habits were at odds, it was a bit funny to realize that she was a pretty hasty, messy eater with her quick nibbling, while Nick was a lot more calm and delicate in how he ate.

 

Theme of the evening, and all that, right?

 

“How is it?” Judy asked, rubbing crumbs off her trimmed whiskers.

 

“Not bad,” said Nick, as if he were pleasantly surprised. “I mean, not as _amazing_ as the Blueberry Tart would've been, but...-”

 

Judy grinned slightly. Her pie had been about what she'd figured – something different, something outside of her usual palette. Delicious all the same. By the time Judy had gobbled down her dessert, Nick was only halfway through his own.

 

Content with her meal, Judy sniffed in a sharp breath, puffed out a quick, peaceful sigh, and flopped herself back against Nick. If she played off the whole 'wine-buzzed' angle, maybe Nick would go along with it?

 

But Judy didn't have long to enjoy this sneaked-away moment of pseudo-cuddling, as their waiter Cub showed up with an even more nervous look about him.

 

Judy decided she had nothing to hide here. Nick was her best friend, friends could...be close in public. That wasn't unnatural, was it? She wasn't going to break her own comfort this time. In fact...-

 

“Waiter?” Judy called, lifting a mellow paw up toward him as she looked up past the table's edge. “Could we, um...finish things off with a couple more glasses of wine? The, uh...red...kind?”

 

“The... _red_ kind?” Nick dribbled out in a snicker. Tilting up his chin, Nick clarified, “We'll take a sampling of your most popular Sangiovese.”

 

Judy would not have been able to repeat whatever type of wine that was, but it sounded good, anyway.

 

“ _Ooh,_ ” she whispered, patting Nick on the chest brusquely. “Sounds fancy.”

 

“I like fancy,” Nick defended quietly. “Once...every now and again.” He toyed with one of Judy's earrings, and she shoved him off.

 

“O-oh, I, erhh...-” The Cub was fidgeting his claws together.

 

Nick asserted calmly, “Let me guess – don't carry it here?”

 

“I...I don't even know what that... _is_...?”

 

“No sweat. Some Merlot will do _just_ fine for _this_ one.” He wiggled Judy's head a bit with the front of his chest.

 

The waiter's eyes were shifting around awkwardly.

 

“I, erh-...I-I'm not sure how else...to _say_ it, but, erm...-”

 

Poor cub was sweating needles.

 

“I'm sure you'll get there, kid,” Nick picked, slicing another thin wafer of pie. Waggling his fork a bit, he joked, “One word after another. Do that a few times and eventually, you'll reach what we call a 'sentence.'”

 

“ _Nick_ ,” Judy hissed in a giggling whisper, smacking his leg with the back of her wrist. Nick ate his pie with some smug satisfaction.

 

The waiter frowned a little at Nick's humor, and Judy tried to save face.

 

“S-sorry, _sorry,_ we're sorry,” Judy spit out. She removed herself from Nick's side. “He's, uhh-... _We're_ a little...-”  
“My manager would like you both to leave.”

 

There was a heavy pause.

It was all the more awkward because of how the entire rest of the restaurant just kept bustling along. Like what was happening didn't matter. Because to the rest of them, it didn't.

 

“Leave...?” Judy panted out with confusion.

 

Her mind was a little numbed by wine, sure, but she wasn't _that_ far gone. What had they possibly done that was so bad? Cheese-and-crackers, what if they got in, like, _trouble?_ Or something? What if word of this little...experimental evening of theirs got to Chief Bogo somehow?

 

“You're serious,” Nick realized, flatly, with some offense. He set his fork down. He

 

The waiter just nodded, his brows furrowed, his eyes staring at his own clik-clacking claws.

 

“ _Wh-...?_ ” Judy suddenly felt...a little sick. She couldn't even get the question out.

 

The waiter answered said question, anyway.

 

“Your, um...conduct? It's upsetting some of our guests...”

 

Judy's heart felt like it had been simultaneously stabbed and lit on fire. She fumbled out frustrated whispers of panic.

 

“Up _setting_...-? Wh-? _How?_ ” Judy was having trouble forming these 'sentences' Nick had just been joking about.

 

“C'mon, Jude.” Nick was removing himself from the table.

 

“Wh-...But-...But your...your dessert, our _bill,_ you haven't even...finished...-”

 

“It's fine,” insisted the waiter. He looked rather nervous. Well, even more than before. He was running his claws against the back of his wrists. “We'll forego your bill if you please just, erh...exit the, uh, the premises, and...-”

“Why do you want us to leave so badly? We're just... _customers,_ like anyone else.”

“Don't...-” The Cub sighed. “Just, please. Ma'am. We don't need a scene. _I'm_ not asking, my manager...-”  
“Where _is_ this _manager_ of yours?” Judy grumbled. “I'd like to have a word with him...”  
“ _She_ is... _really_ busy right now, please, Ma'am, don't...make this-”  
“I wanna know _exactly_ what is so...so _awful_ about our 'conduct' that...-”

“We _do_ reserve the right to refuse serv-”  
“Oh, I will _give_ you something to... _reserve_...!”  
  


“SweetHeart? _Darling,_ ” Nick politely forced through clenched teeth. “Carrot-Cakes?” Nick grabbed Judy's arm. It hurt. She could feel his desperate claws pressing against her wrist. Nick was scared. “Let's...do as the Bear says. Mm?”

 

Judy tried her best to pierce through Nick's stoic gestures. But she couldn't. He yanked at her wrist a bit, trying to nudge her along. It stung a little – the tips of Nick's claws tightening into Judy's fur.

 

' _I want you to remember this moment the next time you think you will_ _ **ever**_ _be_ _ **anything**_ _more than just a stupid, carrot-farmin', dumb Bunny!'_

 

“Let _go_ ,” Judy whispered angrily, shaking her arm out of his grasp. There was this...really difficult, painful moment right then, where Nick looked like he'd just been dealt a sharper sting than being pinched on the wrist. And Judy felt obligated to apologize. “I-...You were just...-” Judy could feel her eyes getting wet. She immediately stuck herself to Nick's side and tugged her paws up against his arm, hoping he understood. “Fine, _fine,_ we'll go, we'll leave...No trouble.”

 

“ _Thank_ you,” sighed out the teenaged bear, escorting them from behind.

 

That was when it really hit Judy in the face.

 

The _looks._

 

Not malicious ones. Not evil eyes or snarling glares, or anything as insidious as all that.

 

It was the _confusion._ The perplexation. All these different breeds of animals, looking at them like they were crazy.

 

Maybe they _were_ crazy.  
  


No. Judy. Judy was crazy. Why else would she be overreacting like this?  
This was all stupid, and just...idiotic, and...and _insane_!  
Who had Judy been _kidding?_ A Bunny and a Fox, like... _that_?  
And they were _police officers._ Differing ranks. The ethical...complications of...-  
Who had she been _kidding_? Seriously?

She'd been so _stupid_.

 

“Have a good evening,” said the wary, adolescent Black Bear from behind as the odd couple walked onto the rain-slick sidewalk.

 

“Yea,” Nick sighed over his shoulder. “You, too, Cub.”

 

The two of them stood for a moment on the misty curb, side by side. Judy's arms were still latched round Nick's arm – he'd stuck his own paws in his pockets, seemingly unsure of what else to do with them. And so they stood some more in the cold, letting what had just happened wash over them, like the bitter windchill. A taxi – one built for larger animals – slowed down by the curb before them. They paid it no mind. Nick gently shook his head at the Rhino driver, who scooted his cab forward a few feet after noticing just how much shorter they were than his vehicle.

 

A few more moments went by. The Zootopian street went on with its business, like nothing had happened. Because as far as Zootopia was concerned, nothing _had_ happened. The naïve desires of a country-bred Bunny meant nothing to the herd.

 

Judy had already managed to accomplish _one_ thing she'd wanted out of life – becoming an actual cop. Maybe it was too much to ask for anything beyond that. Maybe she was supposed to just be happy with what she'd found. Leave it at that.

 

But it was rather hard to be satisfied when everywhere around her, Judy was surrounded by such a common, base function of nature, being fulfilled as nature intended...and it had always alluded her somehow.

 

A pair of Giraffes across the road were walking side by side, sharing a pair of custom earbuds. The cord was _so_ long. Two leopards were jogging together despite the weather, their fur damp but their spirits high. A hippo couple were waddling their way across an intersection – one was guffawing at what the other had just said.

 

Judy had tried to go about things the 'natural' way, once upon a time. Dated a well-to-do Bunny. Who was _probably_ related to her in some way or another, given the odds...

 

But the 'natural' way, the 'normal' way, it just...didn't work out for a Rabbit like Judy Hopps.

 

And so she was left wondering if what she truly wanted, she wouldn't get to have, because it wasn't exactly what nature intended.

 

“Well,” sighed Nick through the sprinkling rain. “I guess you’re off the hook on splitting that bill with me. Right?”

 

Judy drizzled out a pathetic little laugh. Raindrops were starting to slide down her fuzzy forehead. She realized her ears had found their way back upright in the tension of that encounter, her nose was still twitching…

 

Nick sniffed a bit, and worked his left arm up to push rain off his face. Judy groaned tiredly, pushing herself with intent into his hip. It was a weird combination: the chill of the rain against her wine-warmed cheeks; the confusion and hurt from the public embarrassment she’d just endured matched with the long, drawn-out comfort of clutching Nick in her vulnerable way.

 

A brisk breeze whisked at them, and it sent a shiver up and down Judy’s back. Nick at last put his right arm up and over her shoulder, giving it a brusque rub.

 

“Hangin’ in there, Hopps?”

 

“Hangin’ in there.”

 

Nick hailed a cab, asking as he did so, “So, we taking you back home? Calling it a night?”

 

“That eager to escape this nightmare, huh?” Judy said, the gloom in her spirits overpowering the sarcasm a bit too much.

 

“Agh…” Nick froze a bit, his quick little Fox brain trying to work its way out of Judy’s pessimism. Scratching at the wet fur on his neck, he shrugged out, “Nah, just…didn’t plan ahead, so…-”

 

A medium-sized cab rolled up along the curb with a comforting, rolling splash against a street-side puddle.

 

Judy argued, “Who said we needed _plans_ to end this night on a less…stupid…note?”

 

“Oh, _you're_ not bitter,” Nick remarked in his teasing way, opening the cab door to let her in.

“Not at all,” Judy grumbled with a playful but disgruntled sigh.

 

The two of them made their way into the cab – Judy nimbly leapt in, sliding across the plastic seat. Nick casually weaved his head down as he swooped himself into the safety of the car.

 

“Where we off to tonight, folks?” wondered their driver, a smooth-talking Ram.

 

“Well?” Nick posed to Judy, brushing droplets of rain from his fur.

 

“Uh, _my_ place is... _way_ too small,” Judy blurted, not quite considering the implications before opening her mouth. “ _Not_ that...I was...-”

“My place is messier than O'Keefe's,” Nick countered.

 

O'Keefe was a Pig who helped their department on the bio end of things. So, of course, Nick was...making another breedism joke.

 

“Uh, w-why don't we just...go to my place real quick?” Judy decided. “You've uh, never seen it, and...-”

 

“All right, Carrots,” Nick agreed easily. Maybe too easily. Did he specifically _want_ to go see her apartment, or...was he just placating?

 

“Where to, then?” the driver asked, readjusting his mirrors and pulling off onto the street.

 

“Take a left up here on Tortuga,” Nick advised.

 

The cab ride across the district was quiet. Awkward. The rain was nice, though.

 

The cab driver was considerate enough to turn on the heating, help dry them up a bit. By the time they'd reached Judy's apartment complex at the outskirts of the district, the rain had calmed down.

 

When Judy went to try paying the cab bill on her own, Nick insisted they split it, seeing as they had no dinner bill to share.

 

During the entire walk from the entrance, up through the stairs, and down the dingy hall, Judy's head was dancing with so many ideas of where their evening could go.

 

Not that it would... _go_...anywhere.

 

She knew that. Of course she knew that.

 

Did that make the daydreaming, the wishing, the wanting... _worse?_

 

What was that saying? ' _It's better to have loved and to have lost than to never have loved at all.'_ Or something close to that.

 

As Judy fumbled her room key out of her dress' pocket – country living had dictated that a dress without pockets just wasn't worth the time – Judy found herself contemplating a rebuttal to that adage.

 

It was _worse_ to have _wanted_ and to have lost than never to have loved at all.

 

“Cozy,” Nick noted, gazing casually around the hall as he straightened out his rain-wrinkled shirt a bit. “Simple. Seems about right for a Bunny from the Burrows.”

 

“Yea, _well_ ,” Judy breathed out, finally getting _over_ herself long enough to get her room key into its lock. “I'm, uh...reconsidering a move, but...just haven't had a...-” She unlocked her door and shrugged. “-...a reason.”

 

“Eh,” Nick tilted his head and gave a half-shrug of understanding, letting Judy enter her own home first. “Something to be said about just living with the basics.”

 

As Judy replied, she quickly fussed around with the items strewn across the top of her dresser, emergency-tidying as best she could.

 

“Gives me a motivation to spend time off the clock keeping mischief-makers like _you_ out of trouble, anyway.”

 

“That it does...” Nick slowly stepped into Judy's apartment for the first time, hands in his pockets.  
  
Judy skittered behind him to close her door and give them what little privacy this place afforded.

 

Nick noted the microwave on the small table to his right, and the mini fridge right below it.

 

“Nice kitchen,” he teased. “Very post-modern.”

 

“ _Psh._ ” Judy was too embarrassed to counter his joke with one of her own. Her mind was still a bit fuzzy from the wine, so maybe not quite at her sharpest wits, either.

 

In that moment, the two of them standing inches apart in her greasy-walled, barely furnished...broom closet of a home, it smacked Judy in the face that this whole 'inviting-Nick-over' bit had been...maybe not such a thought-out decision.

 

On the upside, the, uh...only place the two of them could sit side-by-side was her bed...

 

_Not_ that they were going to.

 

And then the peanut gallery chimed in.

 

“How'd dinner go, guys?”

“Feel us in on those deets!”

“Don't be _nosy,_ you're setting an awful first impression.”  
“The guy can't even _see_ us, how does it count?”

 

Judy had found some delight in watching Nick's entire body tense up, his fur bristling up a bit as he glared with bulging eyes at the wall to their left.

 

Nick replied loudly, uncomfortably, “Oh, it _counts_.”

 

“Ah, great,” Judy laughed sheepishly, her stomach squirming with remorse. “Heh. Ha. _Ahhh,_ that's uh, that's Bucky and Pronk. My neighbors.”

 

“I'm Bucky.”  
“No, you're not!”  
“He _cannot-see-us_ , let me have this _one_ moment of fun.”  
“ _Pronk_ acts a bit young for his age.”  
“And _Bucky_ is a party-pooper.”  
“If this doesn't count as a first impression, it _definitely_ doesn't count as a party I can poop.”

 

As they quibbled in the next room, Nick just turned to face Judy with disbelief. She could see it on his face: ' _You've been_ living _with this?'_

 

“Eh, they're not so bad when you get used to 'em,” Judy quietly assured.

 

“ _Pronk is!_ ” said the wall.  
“He's right,” admitted the wall a few inches to the side.

 

“Uh, well, nice to...meet you two,” Nick complied, shrugging his shoulders at Judy, who had half her face covered, but was still smiling in spite of the awkwardness.

 

“Don't dodge the question, pal.”  
“Yea, did you treat Judy right?”

 

“H-he was _fine_ ,” Judy insisted, taking a step toward her bed, lifting a subconscious arm of defense for Nick's sake.

 

“You don't _sound_ fine,” retorted Bucky.  
“We gotta come over there and have words with him?” threatened Pronk.  
“Like you'd be able to hurt a fly.”  
“I hurt flies all the _time._ ”

 

“Guys, _guys,_ ” Judy snapped them to attention.  
  
“ _What?_ ” they both grunted back in unison.  
  


Judy exchanged a wary glance with Nick, as if to assure she had the situation under control. Oh. Great. There was a 'situation' to 'control' within moments of Nick entering her abode. Gah. Back on task.

 

“Nick has been...-” She grinned crookedly at Nick, looking him right in the eyes. “-...a real gentleman tonight. We just, uh...ran into some...social tension.”

 

“Did he fight for your honor?” demanded Pronk.  
“I would've,” said Bucky.  
“We _both_ would have.”  
“Judy's too good for this world, Fox.”  
“You be good to her or we'll trample you.”

 

Nick shook his head slowly and slightly, rolling his eyes a little. Judy shrugged with a bit of bashfulness, slicking her paw against her damp ears.

 

She insisted tiredly, “I'm _pretty_ sure I can handle myself just fine, guys, but thanks for the thought.”

 

“Doesn't mean we can't ask how it went.”  
“Guessing it went awful.”  
“Couldn’t have been _that_ bad if she got him back _here,_ though.”  
“Augh, true. True.”

 

“ _Hugh_ , boy,” Nick sighed squeamishly, loosening his slightly soggy tie. “If walls could talk, they'd...probably talk less than _this_ one does.”

 

Judy crossed her arms over her chest and nodded complacently. This wasn't quite going how she'd been hoping.  
  


“He's a sarcastic one, huh?”  
“Not as much as you are.”

 

“Jude,” Nick hissed in a whisper as the two bickered across the paper thin wall. “No offense, but, uh...could we get a little privacy, here?”

 

Judy nodded warily, her stomach bubbling with doubt.

 

“Uh, _hey._ Guys,” she called out awkwardly to her neighbors. “Wasn't there a... _thing_...you had to...go do?”

 

“A thing?”  
“Yea, the _thing_.”  
“I dunno what thing.”  
“Didn't you hear the Fox? They want _privacy_.”

Judy and Nick gaped at each other with wide, bashful eyes as the two horned neighbors went on.  
“ _Ohhh_ . That thing.”  
“Right. The _ thing. _ ”  
“At the place, with the _ – oomph! _ ”  
“Put that on.”  
“I hate this shirt.”  
“You're buttoning it wrong.”  
“Maybe 'cuz I _ hate  _ it.”  
“Fine.”  
“I _ am  _ fine.”  
“You _ are  _ fine.”   


The heckling went on for another twenty or thirty seconds as Bucky and Pronk made their way out their door and down the hall. Judy had wandered off to her bedroom window, gazing out toward the misty streets of Zootopia, the street lamps casting yellow hazes against the puddles on the sidewalk.

 

Nick had set himself down at Judy's desk chair, and when quiet – or, at least, relative quiet – had fallen upon the cramped apartment, Judy sat herself down on her bed, her ears pointed and alert. She watched as Nick was curiously toying with objects on her desk. He noticed her little digital photo she had by her alarm clock – a small picture frame with a screen that rotated through a collection of sappy photographs. Judy and her parents at their vending stand back when she'd skipped town for that stint...A pic of Fru Fru and Judy's god-daughter – also named Judy. It'd been a little while since she'd paid those shrews a visit...A pic of Flash and Nick enjoying coffee after Flash's bailout from that whole speeding incident...Clawhauser posing in a comically seductive selfie (he'd edited Gazelle's hair and horns over his head)...Chief Bogo with his reading glasses on, surveying some paperwork...A selfie of Judy from that Gazelle concert, with Nick's paw photobombing in, giving Judy a second pair of 'Rabbit-ears'...

 

The pictures kept coming, and as the two of them watched, Nick started up a conversation.

 

“So. Cottontail. What happened back there? At the Lumber Yard.”

 

“ _ Uh _ ...We were unfairly treated?”

 

“No, no, I mean...did I hurt you?”

 

“Huh?”  _ Oh. When he'd grabbed her and she'd freaked out a bit.  _ “Oh.  _ No,  _ Nick, you didn't-...I was...really mad, and I...-”

 

“That Fox from when you were kids? He told me about it, you know.”

 

“About...what?” Judy's chest seized with concern. “And  _ when _ ?”

 

“Back at that family reunion a few weeks ago. That Fox that makes the pies?”

 

Ah. As always, it had been a  _ huge  _ reunion. A sea of Bunnies, and enough fruit and veggies to feed them. It was always this big event where Judy's family would swap recipes, and there was the annual family cooking contest, and...-

 

Judy had  _ thought  _ she'd seen Nick chatting with Gideon Gray.

 

Nick specified, “He told me about what he did to you when you were kids.”

 

“Oh.” Judy's tense shoulders relaxed, but her stomach got queasy to compensate. She hadn't been prepared for this conversation. “Y-...No, I, uh...-” She rubbed at her eyes a bit, practically feeling the awkward waterworks of uncomfortable memories seeping up. “Eventually, I was going to...tell you about...-”

 

“That was why you had that repellant when we first met,” Nick stated simply. He was still watching the photo montage, his back to her.

 

Judy sighed through her nose, nodding even though he couldn't see.

 

“Yea,” Judy confessed.

 

“Makes sense.”

 

“I don't carry that stuff anymore.”

 

“Oh, I know.”

 

“Gideon and I, we worked that out. We're fine.”

 

“He told me.”

 

“Did he, um...mention  _ why  _ he was...telling you that?”

 

“Didn't have to explain. He knew I was your partner.”

 

“Nick...”

 

“Kinda wish I'd...heard it from  _ you  _ first, but...-”

 

“I know. Sorry. I've been trying to leave that behind me.”

 

“I get it.”

 

“I was going to tell you eventually.”

 

“Yep. I know.”

 

Nick had this really calm, mellow demeanor to him. It was pleasant, almost.

 

“I didn't want you to be self-conscious about it,” Judy explained.

 

“Carrots. It's all good. Just wanted you to know that I never want to remind you of that stuff, is all.”

 

“And _I_ never...want to remind you of what those Ranger Scouts did to you...You know?”

 

Nick turned his head over his shoulder, his eyes half closed as usual. He wasn't smiling. It was a rather neutral look, as far as Nick's expressions went.

 

“Sounds like we're on the same page, then,” Nick concluded, letting a smug little smile form.

 

Judy allowed her own face to reciprocate the motion. And then Nick turned his head back around.

 

“Hey,” Judy said quietly. “Nick, why don't you sit over here?” She patted her paw on her mattress timidly.

 

Part of her wanted  _stuff_ to happen, but really, most of her just wanted to be sitting with him when they talked like this – side by side.

 

Nick lulled his head back over the chair, letting his arm dangle sloppily across the chair's backside.

 

“Now, Hopps. I _know_ a respectable upholder of the law would _never_ exploit an intoxicated mammal.”

 

Judy couldn't help but grin stupidly at this remark.

 

“I'd _never_ ,” she said in a hushed tone. “Just sick of staring at the back of your head.”

 

Groggily getting up from the wooden chair, Nick grunted, “And here I thought my ears were a marvel to the eyes.”

 

“They _are_ ,” Judy teased. “But a Bunny gets bored easily.”  


“Ah. So your _real_ motivation is revealed.” Nick plopped himself down on Judy's left. The entire mattress creaked a little from the weight it wasn't used to holding up.

 

The two of them just glanced at each other uncertainly for a couple seconds.

 

“Jude,” Nick mumbled solemnly. “Not to be a Dingo Downer here, but...what are we doin'?”

 

Judy's mouth opened slightly, their eyes still engaged, and she couldn't think of an answer. So she stalled.

 

“What, like...-?” She gestured her paw back and forth between the two of them.

 

“I mean...-” Nick grunted out a sigh, scratching behind his ear as he avoided her gaze. “Am I just humoring you here? Were you expecting this to... _go_ somewhere...?”

 

Ouch. That...sounded...not hopeful.

 

“I didn't...know _what_ to expect,” Judy confessed, now also avoiding eye contact as she pushed her ears back. “I just wanted to...you know...try something different, and...-”

 

“Well, it _is_ different,” Nick conceded, with a hint of bitterness.

 

Judy retorted, “It's _different_ for...for a Rabbit and a Fox to not only be police officers, but _partners._ That's-...I mean, Zootopia has been breaking new ground lately, and...-”  
“And you thought...-” Nick began, trailing off.  


“What do _you_ want from this, Nick?” Judy demanded, paws on her thighs as her shoulders tensed. “Huh? What? Because...I know what _I_ want, but...-”

 

Nick's jaw lowered, but he had no clever remark.

 

“I don't... _know_ ,” he blurted with a slight shake of his head.

 

At Judy's flickering eyes, he just gaped, shrugging up both shoulders.

 

Nick further confessed, “I have  _no_ idea what I'm doing with this – with-with  _you_ , I mean. I'm just...kind of...along for the ride.”

 

Judy felt a bit sick. Her rationale managed to strangle her emotions in check before she said something stupid. She was in more or less the same position, wasn't she? Just kind of experimenting, prodding, poking at possibilities, seeing what...came of it.

 

“OK,” Judy slowly sighed out, nodding to herself, drumming her fingers against her legs. “No, you're...you're right, I'm the one who asked you out, and...and I wasn't-...I didn't know what to expect, either, I just...-” She took a deep breath.

 

It all hit her again.

 

What was she _doing?_ Was this all a good idea? Was this a mistake? Everything could fall apart at the drop of a hat. One wrong thing. That was all it could take. She could lose her reputation, lose her job, lose her _best friend..._ It had happened before.

 

But then again: _it had happened before._

 

And the world hadn't ended, had it?

 

Judy _liked_ trying.

 

“Nick, I... _really_ like you,” said Judy in earnest, dusting the corners of her eyes to make sure they weren't leaking just yet. Nick's brows arced with sympathy, and she went on. “I mean, I _know_ part of it is just...everything we've been through together, but I-...Well, it's...-” She panted with frustration at her own lack of...words.

 

“Part of it?” Nick retorted with warmth. “Jude, everything two people go through...is _kind_ of what makes them... _them._ ”

 

“R-right,” Judy agreed with a sheepish smirk. “I know, I mean, like-...It's not like anything will change between us if you... _don't_...want...-”  
“Carrot-Cakes.” Nick planted his hand on her shoulder, running his thumb through her fur a little. “Judy,” Nick corrected himself, and the two gave each other knowing looks.

“Nick,” Judy replied curiously.

“You know what makes us good partners? As officers, I mean.”

“And friends,” Judy added. “And I do.”

“Oh?”

“We believe in each other. We see more than most animals see in a Rabbit, in a Fox.”

“Ah...” Nick's brows furrowed. “Oh...kay. So you, uh... _did_ know.”  
“Of course I did,” Judy said coyly, kicking her feet a bit from the edge of her bed. “It's what brought us together.”

 

“Well put,” said Nick. “More concisely than what I was going to say, at least.”

 

Judy was tired of the waiting. Nick's hand was already on her shoulder. She wormed her arms around his waist and pressed her head against his chest. She could feel his muscles stiffen with stress, with uncertainty.

 

“I... _really_...want to try this,” Judy insisted quietly, eyes squinted shut.

 

“For what it's worth-” said Nick, running his hand down her ears – it sent sparks up and down Judy's spine. “-I'm...not opposed to trying it, too...Except...-”

 

No. Judy didn't want to hear the 'excepts,' the 'buts,' she just wanted to have this one moment, the moment she'd been waiting all evening for. This alone time, this intimacy...and he was going to be the rational one and dash those dreams away, wasn't he?

 

“Except,” Judy sighed, opening her eyes slowly, but tightening her grip on him a little. “We're police officers.”  
  
“We're different _species_ ,” Nick stated pessimistically. “Also. You know. Minor detail.”  
  
“It's minor to _me,_ ” Judy whimpered with some bridled frustration.

  
“I know,” Nick softly chuckled. “But, uh...not so much to the general public. Which can be, say, problematic, when...-”  
“When you're police officers,” Judy winced with knowing dissatisfaction.

 

Nick rubbed his paw against Judy's head, ruffling her fur a bit before gently nudging her off him. Judy lingered, clutched, for a second or two of desperation before letting the Fox go.

 

“You worked hard for this job, Hopps,” Nick reminded solemnly. “And I worked...hard _enough,_ anyway. If Bogo knew what we were doing right now...-”

 

“I know,” Judy half-heartedly acknowledged. She ran her paws against her cheeks, as if to awake from this sleep she was obviously in. “ _Gah,_ I'm sorry, Nick. I just...really wanted this. _Want_ this.” Present tense. Still a need. “I...just...wish that...-” She drizzled out a tired sigh between her lips.

 

“I get it,” Nick gently eased, getting himself up from her bed. The mattress groaned with relief from the lifted weight. Looking down at Judy, who sat with a dejected slouch on her bed, Nick extended his arm. Judy accepted it. With a sulty, facetious waggle of his brows, Nick knelt slightly, kissing the back of Judy's wrist. “For now, though,” Nick said with a teasing tenderness, rubbing his thumb against her paw as he let go, “best to keep things...professional.”

 

“Professional?” Judy balked dryly. “With _you_? I don't think so.”

 

Nick shrugged out his palms knowingly.

 

“Well. Professional _enough,_ ” Nick conceded.

 

Judy lifted her brows, her eyelids at half-mast to meet his.

 

“For now, though?” she quoted him.

 

“For now,” Nick repeated nonchalantly. “Can't make any promises, Cottontail, but...I'm not one to deny giving things a chance. That _is_ how I ended up at the ZPD, isn't it?”

“It's how you ended up in my life in the first place,” Judy further specified.

 

“Right you are, clever Bun.”  
“ _Pff._ ”

 

Squinting a bit at Nick's play on words, Judy laughed softly through her nose.

 

As Nick opened the door, he pointed back at her.

 

He checked, “See you on Monday, Lieutenant?”

 

She confirmed – with some melancholy – “See you on Monday, Detective.”

 

“And hey, Jude?”

 

Judy was already staring intently at Nick as he was hovering in the doorway.

 

“Yea?” Judy replied, confused.

 

“Sooner or later, when we – _if_ we...maybe try this again? Never let them see that they get to you. Hm?”

 

Judy's eyes quivered on the edge of tears. She sucked in air through her nose, wiped her eyes a bit, and nodded.

 

“Got it,” Judy warmly answered.

 

“Also, bring an umbrella. Because I am _not_ fashionable enough to have one of those.”

 

“Sure thing,” Judy snickered softly.

 

And so the door closed.

 

And so the date ended.

 

Left to herself for a couple more minutes, Judy let some tears spill out. Not tears of... _sadness,_ per se. More like frustration. Bitterness. Why had she had to go and... _feel_ this way about someone like that? Someone that all logic dictated she shouldn't feel anything for. Shouldn't even be  _near_ in the first place, depending on who you asked.

 

Maybe it was better to have loved and lost than not to have loved at all, but it was  _definitely_ worse to have loved and  _wanted_ and not been able to  _do_ anything with said love  _or_ said want and then just not have... _anything_ at all.

 

Although, Judy  _did_ have something – she had the job of her dreams.

 

Was that what there was to it, then? She had to work hard, get lucky, and seize opportunity when it showed itself?

 

It sure felt like that was what it took. But luck and opportunity weren't things Judy could just will into existence.

 

Her phone vibrated from her desk. She trudged herself over and plopped into her chair, checking her text message.

 

[From: Benjy]  
[SO?? How's the date going? O-M-GOODNESS do not leave a cat waiting!!]

 

Judy smiled at Clawhauser's enthusiasm. But her expression withered, her eyelids sunk, as reality hit.

 

[Reply]  
[It went OK. We had a good time, but...]  
Judy paused, considering how to phrase it.  
[I picked a dud location for dinner, so we had to call it a night earlier than I would've liked.]

 

Benjamin replied with a sad Catface emoji.

 

Judy sent him one of those...nervous-but-smiling Rabbitface emojis.

 

[Reply]  
[But I took him back to my place for a bit, and...there may or may not have been some mild cuddling.]  
[And some stolen moments in the rain.]  
She threw in a winky-face for good measure. Ben would like that.

 

[From: Benjy]  
[JUDY my heart cannot take your star-crossed existence!!]  
[WildeHopps = power couple!!]  
Some lightning bolt emojis. _Pff._ Benjamin...

 

Judy caught herself grinning at her phone when the wall behind her called out.

 

“So'd you kiss, or what?”

 

Judy's heart skipped as Bucky's voice cut through the wall from behind her. She'd been so lost in her pent up nonsense she hadn't even heard the two come back.

 

“Did you at least _nuzzle_?” Pronk wondered.

 

“No kissing,” Judy drearily reported. With some longing, she added, “A _little_ nuzzling, once or twice.”

 

She got up from her desk and began to change her bedsheets – damp Rabbit and Fox fur had been shed all over her bed, which...she'd been prepared for the possibility, you know, just in case, but...not...quite in this way.

 

“One hoof at a time, Judy,” said Bucky.

 

“More like one hoof at _all_ ,” Judy bitterly grumbled back, stuffing her sheets into a wad and chucking them in her laundry basket in the corner.

 

“He doesn't like you?” demanded Pronk. “How could he not like you?”

 

Judy unclipped her earrings, setting them gracefully down on her desk.

 

“He  _ does  _ like me,” she said. “I think maybe he just...cares more about appearances than I do, or...-”  
_ Or maybe he wants to make sure we both keep our  _ jobs?

 

“The whole cross-breeding thing,” Pronk remarked.

 

“Judy, do  _ not  _ let the herd dictate what you allow yourself,” Bucky encouraged.

 

“Yea, how do you think  _ we  _ got where we are?” Pronk reminded.

 

Judy tilted her head in thought as she unclipped her mother's necklace, placing it beside the earrings.

 

“I know,” Judy acknowledged their position.

 

“We don't live in ancient times, Jude,” Pronk prattled. “None of that 'mating-call' stuff these days. Screw what 'Nature' says you should want. Some times a doe's gotta do what a doe's gotta do.”

 

“Don't be afraid to get some tail now n' then,” Bucky agreed. “He  _ does  _ have a nice tail.”

 

“We saw it on the way in,” Pronk clarified. “It's all right.”

 

“All right? It's  _ nice. _ ”

“Maybe when it's not soaked in rain.”  
“Maybe  _ because  _ it's soaked in rain.”

 

Bucky and Pronk Oryx-Antlerson weren't exactly...optimal role-models for a mammal like Judy, but...there was something to be said of their 'take-no-dung-from-no-one' attitude, given their circumstances. They hadn't let Natural Law get in the way of what _they_ wanted. And yes, they bickered. A lot. But they were clearly happy together.

 

Judy wasn't normally one for bickering but...she loved bickering with Nick.

 

As Judy changed from her rain-dampened dress into some sleepwear, Judy simmered on her thoughts.

 

Letting others see was how she functioned, whether she did so on online, or in person, it was how she _existed_...but holding that stuff back, it was...what she had to do for the sake of her career.

 

Quite a conundrum, right? Having wanted this job for so long, and yet...the job itself entailed _hiding_ who she really was.

 

Mammals were complicated beings.

 

She'd spent her whole kit life dreaming of being a cop. And she'd finally gotten there – even the sweat of her brow hadn't been enough. She'd needed a splash of luck, and a clever Fox who'd believed in her, and whom she'd believed in.

 

As much as she wanted what she wanted...-

 

As much as Judy _so badly_ wanted to take Gazelle's words to heart and ' _Try Everything_ '...-

 

“It _is_ a nice tail,” Judy agreed with them in good humor, though...in actual agreement, also. “I know you two have...had to deal with the herd mentality, too. And Zootopia's...like, the zenith of mammalian society, and...we're getting there. But we're still not as open-minded as we could be. As a herd, I mean.”

 

“Here she goes with another of those reflective speeches...”  
“She's _talking,_ let the poor Bunny have a _voice._ ”  
“Right, right, go on.”

 

“Heh. Sorry, guys. I guess what I'm getting at is...we don't get to have everything we want. Definitely not _when_ we want it.”

 

“Then _take_ what you want. Carrots don't pluck themselves.”  
“You're not fending for your life in burrows, hiding from predators, living off of... _grass_.”  
“Dude, Rabbits don't eat grass.”  
“Yes, they do. Or did. Maybe they still, I dunno.”  
“Whatever. Take what you want, Jude the Dude.”  
“Right. That we agree on.”

 

“It's not _like_ that for everyone,” Judy defended gently, laying down fresh sheets on her mattress. “I'm a...a simple Rabbit, with...with simple _needs_. I have what I...came here for. A beautiful city, a cozy home, the job of my dreams...I can't risk all of that just because of something I want.”

 

“Then maybe it's not something you _really_ want.”  
“Yea, like _want_ want.”

 

“It _is_ ,” Judy insisted, huffing at how the elastic edges of her sheets were snapping off the corner of her bed. “I _do_ want it – _so_ much – I just...can't afford to ruin everything I _have_.”

 

“Mm.”  
“Huh.”

 

The peanut gallery didn't have anything to say to that for a moment. Judy took this time to finish straightening her bed out. She switched her light off.

 

Laying herself down in her bed, Judy argued solemnly, “It's _easy_ for animals to say 'carpe diem,' and to just take what you want, just go for it. I used to think anyone could be anything. But that's just not how the world works.” Judy ran her paws through her ears with a yawn, and readjusted her pillow. “We all have limitations,” she accepted. “We all have wants and desires, and most of them we never get to see become anything more than that. I'm _lucky_ to have this job, to be living in this city, to have a part-...to...to have a friend like Nick. It's not even about Natural Law, or what other animals think of you, it's just...-” Judy rubbed at her drooping eyes. “We want what we want, and...most of them we have to accept that we don't get to have it. ”

 

Judy closed her eyes.

 

“Well, _that's_ a pessimistic way of looking at life. I thought this speech was going somewhere.”  
“It's _realistic._ Listen to the poor Bunny. She is _hurting_.”

 

“Guys,” Judy pleaded. “Trying to...go to sleep here.”

 

“ _Augh,_ look, you're making it worse.”  
“How can I make it any more worse? She's already given up.”

 

“I'm not giving _up_ ,” Judy insisted, her eyes snapping back open. “I am _incredibly_ stubborn.” She sat upright on her bed, hugging her knees in a vulnerable way. “I'm just...accepting my limitations.”

 

“Yea, well...just because you're a small Bunny in a big city, doesn't mean you don't deserve to be happy.”  
“Right? Doesn't mean you don't deserve to quench that thirst at the watering hole.”

 

Judy rolled her eyes a bit at the way these two always seemed to bring conversations back to innuendos, but she smiled all the same. 

 

“Uh... _thanks._ I think.”

 

Hunched up on her bed, now unable to sleep, Judy brooded in contemplation. She tapped her foot against her mattress as she got lost in thought, drowning out the sounds to her right.

 

“All right, all right, now get some sleep and dream about Foxy McBushyTail.”  
“His name is Nicholas.”  
“I _know_.”  
“Don't stereotype him in front of Judy.”

 

These...were her neighbors. Zootopia was her home. The ZPD was her career. Nick was her partner. 

 

Judy Hopps had gained a lot of things for being a small Bunny in a big city.

 

Maybe she'd spend a great while yet waiting and wanting for things she couldn't have, or maybe even shouldn't have.

 

But Judy liked trying, actually.

 

And the longer she spent in Zootopia, the more interested she became in wanting to ' _Try Everything._ '

 

And the more aware she became of how physically impossible that actually _was._

 

- _Thump thump thump thump thump thump-_

 

–

 

“ _Life isn't some cartoon musical where you sing a little song and your insipid dreams magically come true._

_So let. It. Go.”_

 

–

 


End file.
